


The Lane - Part 2

by Walkinrobe



Series: So Dramatic [14]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Interrupted by the kids sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinrobe/pseuds/Walkinrobe
Summary: Nothing helps the grieving process more than your kids unexpectedly barrelling into your bedroom when you’re fucking - or does it?





	The Lane - Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> My partner is working, so I’m writing about the small children and smut of fictional characters while I eat Easter eggs in bed. That’s how I roll these days.

The Lane - Part 2

‘Daddy, Daddy. Pease wake-up. Pease,’ a hot breath says into his ear.

It can’t be morning. Can it? He cracks open one eye and looks to the window. No, it’s not.

‘Ashy, what are you doing awake? What’s wrong?’ he manages to croak out. He runs his hands down his face, trying to drag himself into a functional consciousness.

‘I did wet the bed,’ Ashlynn responds in a pitiful voice.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. 

‘Ugh, righto. That’s OK. Let’s change your pyjamas and you can sleep with me and Mommy tonight’ he offers, rubbing his hand on her gorgeous little cheek in an act of comfort. Her wet sheets can wait until morning. He doesn’t have the emotional resilience to deal with a wet bed right now.

‘Daddy’, she whispers, ‘I did wet your bed. I sorry’.

Motherfucker.

He doesn’t wanna deal with this shitshow now.

He fumbles around in the dark patting their bed linen. Sure enough, he finds it. A huge wet patch. Fucking hell. How much did Ashlynn drink last night? Fucking hell to the power of ten. How did one tiny two-year old bladder hold all that liquid? Mercifully, and oddly, Ashlynn appears to have been laying on top of their quilt. He unquestionably thanks the universe for this unusual set of circumstances because it means the quilt has soaked up all the mess and the sheets underneath have escaped unharmed.

But what he doesn’t find during his exploration of the bed is his wife. 

Shit.

‘Lil Lady, do you know where Mommy is?’ he switches on his bedside lamp. Both he and Ashlynn flinch at the brightness.

‘Mommy running on a machine’ she nods. 

He can clearly see Ashy now. She’s standing in her wet pyjamas, holding her favourite teddy bear by his ear and wearing a very contrite expression on her face. He feels like an arsehole for being cranky that she wet their bed. She’s just a baby. He wants to smother her in kisses and make her giggle.

Then his mind goes to Tess on the treadmill. At 3am. That does not bode well. 

He’s tempted to go straight down to their gym to check in with Tess but he needs to get Ashy back to bed first. He gets out of bed and scoops Ashlynn into his arms, careful to keep the wet part of her clothes away from his body. As the father of four kids and the GOAT male ice dancer he is highly skilled at holding grotty kids in a way that makes them feel loved but also keeps their disgusting mess away from his person.

‘Come with Daddy, sweet girl,’ he nuzzles into her neck, ‘let’s get you changed and into your own bed’. He kisses her nose, once, twice, three times. She smiles.

‘Lub you Daddy’ she sighs softly.

‘Love you too Ash’, he promises.

*

He finds Tess exactly where he expects. In their home gym, pounding away on the treadmill which is neatly placed between the rowing machine and stationary bike.

A home movie from Ashlynn’s first Christmas is playing silently on the huge TV attached to the wall. Oh, Tess. He remembers cutting this video together, it has some scenes of Ashlynn and Kate, and Tess and Kate baking gingerbread.

‘Literally and metaphorically running away from your problems, eh? You always were an overachiever, Virtch,’ he stands in front of the treadmill so she can’t escape his gaze.

‘Well, look at you Moir, still funny at 3:15am. Right back at you regarding unnecessary over achievement’ she pants.

‘Ash wet our bed,’ he delivers the good news.

‘Oh fuck,’ she screws up her face in disgust.

‘It’s all sorted. She’s cleaned up and in her own bed. I’ve put our quilt in the washing machine. By some miracle the sheets we’re unscathed, so it was only a 4/10 on the shitshow scale,’ he moves to rest on the wall. Man, he’s exhausted. It’s been three very long days since Kate died.

‘You’re the best. Love it when you go into fix-it mode. I owe you one,’ she responds, as if having a conversation at 3:15am in their home gym is an every day occurrence.

‘Sweetheart, can you please turn off the treadmill?’ he asks.

‘Just one more mile,’ she puffs holding up one finger. It’s the bird. She smirks.

‘Fun-ny. But no more, it’s enough’ he says turning off the machine at the wall. It’s slowly whirs to a stop.

‘I was enjoying that,’ she pouts.

‘That’s the problem, Tess. You hate running. You don’t enjoy it. Enough running now. Let’s talk, eh?’ He takes her hand and leads her into his embrace. Her clothes are drenched in sweat. Shit. How long has she been down here running? He tries to look at the treadmill’s control pad, then he remembers he cut the power. 

‘I don’t want to talk,’ she steps back and peels off her wet T-shirt leaving her topless. She takes his hands and places them on her breasts.

Huh. He didn’t see this coming.

‘Let’s do something more fun’ she raises her eyebrows while her hands run down his bare chest and slip below the waist of his pyjama pants.

She is snaking sultry kisses up his neck and whispering what she wants him to do to her when he begrudgingly comes to his senses. He gently takes hold of her wrists and removes her hands from his half-hard cock.

‘You know how much I want you to keep going, but we’re going to stop, OK?’ he asserts.

‘No, not OK’ she snaps.

‘Tess’ he starts. 

‘Don’t ‘Tess’ me. What the fuck? Since when don’t you want to sleep with me?’ she interrupts.

‘Well, since you’re using sex to avoid having a serious conversation with me,’ he delicately rebukes. 

‘I’m OK Scott. I am’, she protests.

‘I dunno, running at 3am is a big sign you’re not OK. And you don’t have to be OK. In fact, you’re not expected to be OK. But I need you to talk to me, instead of running away. We agreed on painful honesty, remember?’ He wonders if he’s come on too strong by forcing her to talk.

‘I don’t want to talk, I just want to be me,’ she says softly. ‘The normal me, the one that isn’t the person whose Mom just died, the one who didn’t spend yesterday planning a funeral, the one who is tired of trying not to cry in front of her kids. I hate not feeling like me’. She looks at him with sad green eyes.

He rubs his hands up and down her arms, trying to convey how much he loves her. He leans forward to kiss the apple of her cheek. He looks at her and is filled with an overwhelming desire to make her feel better. Except he can’t. This is grief. There are no short cuts. They have to ride it out. Together.

‘I’m sorry you feel like that. You’re still you. Undeniably you. I can still see every part of you’. He encases her in his arms. ‘You’re grieving for you Mom. We all are. It’s shitty and hard and sad. It’ll be two steps forward and one step back. And it’s only just started. We don’t need to hide our grief from the kids, they need to know this is what happens when someone you love very, very much dies. You do whatever you need to take care of you. I’m here, I’m looking out for the kids if you’re not feeling up to it’. 

He kisses her hair.

‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she says through the tears that have started to slide down her face. ‘It’s all so big, I don’t feel like I have a handle on it. Ash is oblivious to what’s happening, Oli is like any other five year old - completely confused by everything. At eight, Jamie is sensitive and sweet and upset because he knows I’m upset, and Tom is ten, so he’s heartbroken that his grandmother died’.

She rests her head on his chest, her cries intensifying.

‘And I,’ she makes out through hards sobs, ‘I just want my Mom back’.

‘We all do, Sweetheart’. It’s all he can say.

He cups her face and kisses her mouth softly ‘Let’s go upstairs, get you in the shower and head to bed’.

*

They stand in the shower together, her in his embrace and they cry. She cries over all the memories she has of her Mom and all the memories that will never be. Her chest hurts with the disbelief that this has happened and it can’t be undone. It’s final.

The feeling that nothing can remedy this situation is omnipresent. It pervades her every thought. Makes her limbs feel heavy. It taunts her plans and stretches out to the horizon. It is just one, huge shitbox of helplessness and it screams at her over and over again: this is your new reality.

‘I don’t want to bury my Mom, Scotty’ she says into his eyes.

‘Oh, Tessie. I love you’.

*

She wakes as the sun rises, feeling somewhat lighter after the discussion she had with Scott in the early hours of the morning.

He’s snuggled behind her, just as he was when they fell asleep, an arm and leg wrapped around her, protecting her from unknown physical and emotional enemies. She sighs into him and he gathers her closer, unconsciously kissing her neck, a muscle memory borne from so many nights spent together. Her heart aches with the love she has for him. Thank fuck he is here.

She can feel his morning wood pressed against the small of her back. It’s just as familiar as his arms, another constant in their relationship. She lays her arm on top of the arm he has locked around her waist. She squeezes his hand. She wants him. Wants to do something usual, normal and safe with him. 

At her touch he slowly grinds his hips against her ass. He’s more awake than she thought.

He slides his hand out from under hers and moves it beneath her camisole. He slowly caresses her nipple with his thumb. She can feel her nipple harden under his touch. She sucks in a sharp breath.

She moves her hand behind her so it slides under the waistband of his pyjama pants and strokes the warm skin of his hip. 

‘Do you wanna fuck?’ he whispers in her ear from behind her as he moves his hand to her other breast, teasing her nipple with his clever fingers. His voice and fingers are making her wet.

‘Yes please,’ she whispers back, pushing her hand further into his pants to take his cock and rub her thumb across his tip.

‘Let’s do it slow and lazy’, he suggests, inching his hand down her stomach to toy with her belly button ring.

‘Oh my God, yes. Please’ she intones. ‘And just like this, stay where you are,’ she instructs. ‘Although, I had thought we were under a sex ban’ she sighs, his hand drifting further down her body.

‘Only when I wanted to talk’ he grunts as he grinds into her pyjama pants from behind. ‘I’m not interested in talking right now’, he covers her neck with warm, wet kisses. ‘Help me with your pants, please’ he says pushing at her waistband. They work together to relieve her of her pyjama bottoms and underwear.

He’s already topless but they need him to loose his pants too. She removes her hand from his cock and hooks it up, behind her to reach for the back of his head. She runs her hand through his hair. 

He shoves his pants to his ankles. She feels his warm cock release from his clothes and leak pre-cum against the top of her ass. She can’t wait to have him slide inside her.

She glances at the bedside clock, it’s just after 6am. The kids should be asleep until 7am, at least. Plenty of time for a slow, sexy fuck.

She turns her head backwards towards him and kisses him. Deep, languid kisses that set the pace for the way his body is moving against her body.

She shivers.

‘Are you cold?’ he asks.

‘I am. It’s because we’re missing the quilt’ she smiles at him over her shoulder and is grateful to still be wearing her camisole.

‘I can fix that’ he says, pulling up the thick top sheet to cover their bodies and holding her tightly to his chest. 

*

He’s not sure what it is about early morning sex. But, fuck, he loves it. Loves the way she smells, loves the sleepiness, loves the closeness.

They’re under the sheet and he’s just skated two fingers deep inside her. She’s so wet and it’s making mouth watering, filthy noises. All he wants to do is remove his fingers and drive his cock into her cunt. But not just yet. Very soon. The hand that’s not inside her is splayed across her stomach holding her tightly. 

She’s got her hand on his cock, stroking him in long, fluid movements, then every once in a while moving to his balls and swishing her fingers across his soft skin. It’s making his stomach swoop and his cock harder.

‘I want to slip my cock inside you. Are you ready?’ he huffs.

‘Yes, I’m ready. Please’ she moans.

He lines himself up and she moves her top leg forward so her knee is resting on the bed, opening herself up for him. This is a position they have perfected over the years, especially when she’s been pregnant. He knows the angle works for both of them. She gets to have him glide his cock along that magic spot on her front wall. And he gets his cock firmly, soundly embedded in her warmth.

He moves towards her and feels his cock ease through her opening and settle deep inside her. His stomach is flush against her back.

‘That’s it’ she sighs. ‘You’re exactly where I need you’.

He places both arms around her body, one underneath, between her and the bed, and one over, between her and the sheet. He holds her firmly, his mouth sits at her ear.

‘Fuck, you’re the sexiest woman on Earth. I still can’t believe you want to keep doing this with me’ he murmurs. He starts up a slow rhythm with his hips.

‘I love you’ she exhales. ‘I love you always, but I especially love you when you’re fucking me’ she teases. ‘Come on, Moir, make me come’.

They fall into a familiar rhythm. It’s measured and intense. The familiarity doesn’t do anything to lessen the pleasure - just the opposite. It brings intimacy and confidence. Exactly what they both need in this moment. It goes on and on.

‘Fuck, this is good. Slow sex is very underrated. I’m so, so close. You?’ he checks in, licking her neck.

She makes a strangled noise and he feels her body go rigid. He’s completely taken by surprise, is she coming? He didn’t know she was about to come. That’s never happened before. Ever.

‘Ashy’ she barks.

‘What?’ he grunts. Confused. He’s about to come. He’s mind is focused on the tingling deep in his ball sack which is slowly starting to run up his cock to his tip. He can’t make sense of what she’s saying.

Then, as his orgasm engulfs him, Tess pants the words that NO parent ever wants hear. It is cata-fucking-strophic.

‘She’s right here. I’m looking at her’, she whimpers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuuuuuuuuck. 

All he can do is close his eyes, bite his lip and tuck his head down behind Tessa’s as his orgasm soars through him. He can’t control his body and the shame he feels, as his hips involuntarily continue to fuck his wife from behind while their two year stands by their bed, is beyond mortifying.

‘Mommy, I did wet my bed again’ he hears Ashy say.

‘Oh’ is all Tess manages to say and pulling the sheet to her chest from where it had fallen to her waist.

He’s still trying to catch his breath when he hears another set of feet enter the room. You’ve got to be fucking joking.

‘Ash wet her bed’ James announces as he stands next to Ashlynn and places his hands on his younger sister’s shoulders. 

His hard cock is still twitching, leaking his cum deep inside his wife. There are now two children in the room and all that prevents this from being a very inappropriate sex-ed class is a linen sheet.

‘Thanks Jamie’ Tess forces out in a remarkably even voice. ‘Could you help Ashy change her clothes please, that’d be a big help’.

‘No, Daddy help me’ Ashlynn demands.

‘Daddy’s busy right now’ is the first thing that springs out of his mouth. He wishes his voice sounded calm, but it’s a screechy, despairing noise instead.

Tess giggles and swats his arm. 

‘Baby girl, James will help you. Daddy will come in a minute’ she says.

‘Daddy’s already come, isn’t that our problem?’ he mutters into her ear.

They both burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation. He finally raises his head to peer at their confused looking kids. His cock is half hard now and he tries to discreetly inch out of her but Tess grabs his hip to tell him to stop.

Then he sees Thomas stride into the room and sit on the end of their bed. For the love of God!!!

‘Fuck, it’s like a bloody Adam Sandler movie in here, going from bad to worse’ he moans to no-one in particular.

‘Daddy, no swearing!’ rebukes Oliver as he swans into their bedroom to join the melee. 

That’s it, the full sweep, all four kids are now in the room where he is balls deep in Tess after a stellar orgasm. He can feel their cum leaking out of her, all over his groin. He couldn’t make this shit up. Please let this be a horrible dream.

‘Who’s Adam Sandler?’ asks Tom.

‘Fuck me. I’ve reached peak desperation point. Everybody out. Unless you’re my wife!’ he orders.

‘I your wife?’ asks Ashy in a hopeful voice.

That gets a laugh from everyone. She looks around, proud to have caused such merriment amongst her brothers and parents.

‘I Daddy wife!’ she shouts.

‘No sweet girl, only Mommy is my wife, you go with your brothers to change your clothes please‘, he chuckles.

Tom takes Ash’s hand and leads her out of the room.

‘Tom, can you please close the door on your way out’ Tessa asks.

‘Sure, Mom’ he replies, pulling the door shut as he leaves the room.

Tess looks to him. He slides out of her and they both roll into their back. She takes his hand entwines their fingers before kissing the back of his hand. 

‘Remember how we had ‘sex in public’ on our sex bucket list?’ she smiles.

‘Yep’.

‘Not what I had in mind. Never imagined my own children would be involved’, she laughs.

‘Ugh, it hurts my brain just thinking about it. Was that literally a clusterfuck? Do you think Ashy had any idea her father was orgasming into her mother while she stood beside our bed?’

‘Definitely not’, she’s two and a half’ she dismisses.

‘What about the boys?’

‘Nah, you were done by the time they walked in. They would have thought we were just being our usual mushy, snuggly selves. Thank fuck we were under the sheet and I had my top on’, she kisses his jaw.

‘In fact’, she continues ‘I think we got out of that pretty lightly. You could have had your head between my legs or had me bent over the chair. That would have taken a lot of explaining and we’d probably have to send the older two to boarding school until we recovered from the embarrassment. Which would likely be when they went to college’.

‘Please stop talking’ he shudders, ‘I don’t ever want to think about that again. However, poor Tessa Jane, you missed your orgasm in all of the ruckus. Would you like me to help you with that?’ he wiggles his eyebrows and put his hand between her legs.

She nods. 

‘Lock that bloody door’, she instructs.

*

On Monday, three days after her Mom’s funeral she’s home alone when a UPS courier delivers a small parcel. She’s not expecting anything.

She opens the parcel to find a beautifully wrapped box. Her first thought goes to Scott but when she removes the accompanying card from the parcel her heart stops.

It’s her Mom’s handwriting.

What? How?

Her hands are shaking as she tears open the envelope.

‘Dear Tess, Thank you for a fabulous birthday party on the weekend. I’m so proud of the amazing woman you’ve become. Following your dreams and balancing work and home life isn’t easy. But you make it look easy! You’re a wonderful mother to your kids. You and Scott are raising them to be impressive, polite and delightful people. Baby girl, I’m so glad you’re in my life, you’re one in a million. I love you so much. I hope you enjoy this gift, I saw it and immediately wanted it for you. Love, Mom’.

Her Mom must have pre-arranged for this to be delivered after her birthday party. It was supposed to be on Saturday night. It’s such a Kate thing to do, have everything planned and organised in advance. 

She puts down the card and rips open the box as quickly as she can. She’s gasps when she sees what’s inside. It’s a locket. She’s always wanted a locket, since she was a kid but could never have one due to her skating, it would have gotten in the way. On the back it’s engraved with ‘Tessa and Mom, 1996’. She opens the locket to find a photo of her and her mom, they’re sitting on the porch of their house, she’s staring adoringly at her Mom, her Mom is smiling broadly at the camera. It’s perfect. 

Her tears are falling so fast she can’t wipe them away. 

‘Thank you’ she breathes.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this makes up for the sadness of last chapter.  
> Yes?


End file.
